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I grew up with the knowledge that until THEY were over, the temperatures would still be unstable and UNPREDICTABLE!
And this year, they definitely did their reputation justice!
So, a few more days eh and, you can bring out in the garden all the frost susceptible plants and also annuals.
In late spring, the ICE SAINTS is the name for a number of Catholic saints , whose name days fall within the period from 11 to 15 May.
According to the meteorology people they are the last days in the year in which frost still may occur.
A sloppy interpretation of this folk wisdom has led to the misconception that a late spring with increased risk of frost would be.
Amongst the Ice Saints are considered:
Mamertus ( May 11 )
Pancras ( May 12 )
Servatius of Maastricht ( May 13 )
Boniface of Tarsus ( May 14 )
Sophia of Rome ( May 15 )
We came back from the Continent, I saw these in the garden, amongst the undergrowth, they were tiny and frail. View On proper Black
The little bells were tingelinging away in the cold wind, knowing they do not last very long... brought them in, they were ready for their close-up, lol!
STAY SAFE!
Have a wonderful day, filled with love and beauty, M, (*_*)
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Muguet, Lilly-of-the-Valley, lis-des-vallées, Lelietjes-van-Dalen , meiklokjes, green, foliage, flowers, 1-May, leaves, Convallaria, white, flower, Spring, studio, black-background, macro, colour, design, square, Hasselblad, "Magda indigo"
Flickr Friday theme, Knowledge. One of my old books. Cookie and Mouse. Mouse doesn't want to give up his bowtie.
the old photographer,;-)
Mea Culpa: I was taking a series of shots of this Lady Bug in the middle of some pretty lavender blossoms. It was moving around. Several of the images are pretty nice, and I intended one for Flickr.
I found this one, though, and chose it instead. It is NOT as good as the others, but because of the split second in time captured, it seemed the money shot. Subject matter and pose trumped the somewhat sharper beauty images in the blooms.
BUT...I've learned something completely new. Lady bugs open their 'shell' and wings ONE AT A TIME, not both simultaneously. You can see this in the comment box photo immediately below. Perhaps, for knowledge's sake, THAT is really the payoff photo.
I had mistaken this butterfly for a Monarch .. actually I had little knowledge that the two were different .. I take photos .. of all pretty things.
Those cubicle-shaped rooms in those buildings look like books and the whole building looks like a bookshelf. Those rooms representing knowledge. Wings are the focal point in this picture because that is the end result, which is freedom. And with that freedom that person holds endless opportunities (sky is the limit).
© Ben Heine || Facebook || Twitter || www.benheine.com
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This is Queen's College in Oxford, England
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For more information about my art: info@benheine.com
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There Is a New Song
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
Each morning of our life,
There is a new song
And when dusk arrive,
These, remain and carry on;
Futile is our love story,
If enlighten is not there,
With tuneful morning glory
And basket of fruits to bear.
Freedom is no yesterday,
Nor is it in a book we read,
It is the doing of our say
And how we others treat;
Flower within your breast
Are beautiful of wisdom,
If they are for love that is least,
They truly shall forward bloom.
Our heaven is not in book,
Or a story that once was told,
Nor is it of rainbow look,
It is what we give and hold;
Let there be love in what we do
And kindness is what you give,
Then prosperity becomes you
And justice shall with you live.
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The poem appeared on www.poemhunter.com/peter-s-quinn
“Knowing others is wisdom, knowing yourself is Enlightenment. - Lao Tzu”
Macro Monday project – 04/07/14
"the Office"
I took this vertically on my Intrepid 4x5 with my Nikon 210 lens and Kodak Tmax 400 then scanned it on my new Epson v850. I then widened it to a 3x2 aspect ratio and it took hours and hours to recreate the rest of the dock on the left side of the image. It's not perfect and I'd like to take even more time and possibly reupload it in the future but this photo here represents my years of knowledge and hard work getting better at this art. I'm really proud of it.
“Jungle stories by Jim Corbett merit as much popularity and as wide a circulation as Rudyard Kipling’s Jungle Books. Kipling’s Jungle Books were fiction, based on great knowledge of jungle life; Corbett’s stories are fact, and fact is often stranger than fiction.”
~M.G. Hallett (Introduction; Man-Eaters of Kumaon)
To the world, Jim Corbett is a little-known naturalist who rose to some fame in early 1900s hunting several maneaters in India’s Kumaon region. To Kumaonis, people from the densely forested Himalayan foothills of Kumaon, Jim Corbett was a savior. He was called upon on numerous occasions to alleviate terrors of man-eating tigers and leopards that roamed large regions and killed tens to hundreds of hapless men, women, and children who needed to venture into the jungle for their livelihood. To locals, Jim Corbett was not a hunter or a killer, he was their protector. Born in India of European ancestry, Jim Corbett loved the country and her people (“In my India, the India I know, there are four hundred million people, ninety percent of whom are simple, honest, brave, loyal, hard-working souls whose daily prayer to God…, is to give them security of life and of property...”; My India). Returning the love and doffing her hat to his status and posthumous influence in the region, India named her first national park after him (The Jim Corbett National Park).
Jim Corbett was also a writer extraordinaire, a fact often ignored in favor of his fame as the celebrated hunter. He hunted alone (“I have made it a hard and fast rule to go alone when hunting man-eaters, for if one’s companion is unarmed it is difficult to protect him, and if he is armed, it is even more difficult to protect oneself”), and he wrote alone producing prose that effortlessly took readers on nerve wrecking expeditions of hunting man-eaters. He shot with a long rifle and wrote in long sentences. Both his rifle and his sentences often met their targets. Take the following as an example:
"Dansay was an Irishman steeped to the crown of his head in every form of superstition, in which he had utter and complete belief, and it was therefore natural for him to tell his ghost stories in a very convincing manner. According to Dansay, a banshee was an evil female spirit that resided in dense forests and was so malignant that the mere hearing of it brought calamity to the hearer and his family, and the seeing of it death to the unfortunate beholder. Dansay described the call of a banshee as a long drawn-out scream, which was heard most frequently on dark and stormy nights. These banshee stories had a fearful fascination for me, for they had their setting in the jungles in which I loved to roam..." (Jungle Lore)
If you are not already spooked, you’re by now, at least, very curious about Dansay’s Banshee. I will let Jim tell you all about it:
"As on the evening of the storm a wind was blowing, and after I had been standing with my back to a tree for some minutes, I again heard the scream. Restraining with difficulty my impulse to run away, I stood trembling behind the tree and after the scream had been repeated a few times, I decided to creep up and have a look at the banshee. … —with my heart beating in my throat— I crept forward as slowly and as noiselessly as a Shadow, until I saw Dansay’s banshee.
In some violent storm of long ago a giant of the forest had been partly uprooted and had been prevented from crashing to the ground by falling across another and slightly smaller giant. The weight of the bigger tree had given the smaller tree a permanent bend, and when a gust of wind lifted the bigger one and then released it, it swayed back on to the supporting tree. At the point of impact the wood of both trees had died and worn as smooth as glass, and it was the friction between these two smooth surfaces that was emitting the terrifying scream. Not until I had laid the gun on the ground and climbed the leaning tree and sat on it while the scream was being repeated below me, was I satisfied that I had found the terror that was always at the back of my mind when I was alone in the jungles. From that day I date the desire I acquired of following up and getting to the bottom of every unusual thing I saw or heard in the jungles and for this I am grateful to Dansay for, by frightening me with his banshee, he started me on the compiling of many exciting and interesting jungle detective stories.” (Jungle Lore)
Locating and ‘getting to the bottom of the unusual sight’ above during our recent trip to the verdant national park, Rishabh said, ‘it looks like a scene from a videogame’. It was indeed a scene. It was Jim Corbett’s scene, which reminded me all about his Banshee and how not to be afraid of the unknown but be eagerly curious about it.
Daniel Barter Photography on Facebook
A collection of books gathers dust. Part of a library in an abandoned manor house in the UK. A time capsule of Victorian and early 20th century artefacts.
A Hindu temple at Lake Parashar, Himachal Pradesh, India. The lake is coveted to have Sage Parashar from Hindu mythology meditated and acquire knowledge in its surroundings.
Mystery solved! I've been trying to get to know my new home area, and on one of my numerous recce trips had passed this farmyard out at Newton of Ardtoe, and wondered why there was an ex RAF SEAKING search and rescue helicopter residing next to a cattle shed. In the absence of anyone around I was left wondering until today when a local, liberally spattered in cow sh!t came out of a nearby house with his wife, and I was able to ask him. Well Gordon told me it had been bought by a local fisherman who had a vision to convert it into a snack shack or an AirBnB. Ah yes, what a good idea....and then it transpired this was not just any local fisherman but one who lives 20 yards over my garden fence. Thankfully, I know there is no room near us to move a redundant ex RAF SEAKING search and rescue helicopter to, but said neighbour does not have the best reputation in these parts for maintaining the peace. Quite how it landed in the back o'beyond remains a mystery. These things are BIG!. But I'm discovering there are many colourful locals in these parts and strange things do happen.
You should never underestimate farmers and fishermen in these parts. Next to the helicopter the farmer is building his own SpaceX Mars rocket rival